


A Second Chance

by InimitableTimeDragon (kairos_system), notthegirlwholived (kairos_system)



Series: Trans Boy Harry Potter [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Hogwarts, Black Quill, Blood Quill, Child Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Snape Bashing, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairos_system/pseuds/InimitableTimeDragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairos_system/pseuds/notthegirlwholived
Summary: After Narcissa saves Harry for telling her Draco is safe, Harry reflects on the events that led him to that point and remembers when he was friends with a Malfoy.





	A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkitSquad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkitSquad/gifts).



            When Harry emerges from the white train station in his mind, everything is quiet.

            He can imagine Voldemort’s followers standing around, looking at the supposedly dead body of the Boy who Lived, finally killed by the man whose life was threatened by his existence.

            Narcissa Black Malfoy is ordered to check Harry’s body in order to ensure that the killing curse was successful. Harry listens to the distant roars of animals in the Forbidden Forest as she walks over.

            He’s expecting anger as she bends her head down over him, but when Narcissa feels Harry’s pulse with her finger, there’s a barely-audible gasp, and she hisses in his ear “Is Draco safe?”

            “Yes,” Harry forces out, nearly silent.

            Narcissa straightens up, tosses back her hair, and says, “He’s dead,” to the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

            Harry remains perfectly still as Hagrid picks him up. He can feel the big man’s tears on his robes, and he can’t help but wonder why Narcissa thought he’d know whether Draco was safe.

            Well, there was what happened a few years ago, during the Triwizard Tournament, when they were friends and almost more…

* * *

             _“Potter!” Malfoy calls out to him when he sees him in the hallways. “What’s the matter? Where’s your Weasley sidekick?”_

_“Pissed because he thinks I put my name in the Goblet of Fire after telling him I wouldn’t,” Harry mutters, too despondent to think of a clever retort._

_“And so what if you did?” Malfoy asks, catching up to him. “I suppose I’ll believe you that you say you didn’t… a Gryffindor who did would own up to it. Anyway, it’s not like it’s a betrayal.”_

_“He sees it as one,” Harry responds, startled into honesty by Malfoy’s sudden friendliness. “Me being the big-headed Boy Who Lived he always thought I was.”_

_“And so what?” Malfoy nudges him. His face betrays a second of uncertainty at whether he’s allowed to touch Harry before that Slytherin smirk is back on his face. “If you want glory, you deserve it.”_

_“Thanks, Malfoy,” Harry says with a smile, surprised that the boy who’s always been pompous when the other Gryffindors are around is being friendly to him._

_“Anytime, Potter,” Malfoy responds. “You can always count on a Slytherin to tell you to take what is rightfully yours.”_

* * *

            As Harry had progressed through the Triwizard Tournament, he’d grown closer with the Malfoy, shocked to have a friend in Slytherin House and to learn a secret of the boy’s… no, don’t think about that, focus.

            Hagrid continues to cry as Voldemort gloats about having killed the Boy Who Lived, and calls Draco forward for what is quite possibly the most awkward hug Harry has ever witnessed. He wouldn’t know for sure — his eyes are still closed.

* * *

             _“So. I managed to land a date with the infamous Boy who Lived. My father would be shocked,” Draco says with a smirk. They’re sitting in the Three Broomsticks with foaming mugs of Butterbeer._

_“Tell me about it. You’re fraternizing with the enemy while Dumbledore tries to rebel against the Ministry!” Harry jokes, thinking about Dumbledore’s opposition to Umbridge’s new rules and methods of teaching._

_“I’m not so opposed to the new ideas,” Draco says, taking a sip of his Butterbeer. “It’s not like Dumbledore should be in control of everything at Hogwarts…”_

_Harry’s eyes glaze over as Draco goes off on one of his trademark lectures, only this time it’s something he properly disagrees with. Apparently the Slytherin has no idea what sort of topics one is supposed to discuss on a date._

_“… and I’m fine with her having options for disciplining the students at Hogwarts. What sort of a lesson does making someone polish trophies impart, anyway?” Draco concludes his lecture._

_Harry glares at Draco, infuriated. “Do you even know what kind of punishments she’s giving during her detention?”_

_Draco startles at Harry’s anger. “No, not really, but my parents have given me an idea…”_

_“THIS is her idea of a punishment,” Harry snaps, shoving his hand in front of Draco’s face. “And if you agree with it, I think this date is over, Malfoy.”_

_Not giving Draco much of an option to reply — something he’ll regret later — Harry slaps some Sickles down on the table for his Butterbeer and storms out of the Three Broomsticks._

* * *

            Harry watches Draco reluctantly walk over to the side of the Death Eaters, just like how he’d joined the Imperial Squad in their fifth year despite knowing what Umbridge did to students who disagreed with her. Sure, he apologized to Harry while tying his hands behind his back the night of the altercation at the Department of Mysteries, but it meant nothing.

            He knows he has to do something.

* * *

            Soon, Harry’s standing in front of his friends and the corpse of Lord Voldemort, being celebrated as the savior of the Light side. But the victory doesn’t seem complete. McGonagall and Hagrid are dragging Draco away, presumably to take him to Azkaban.

            “Stop,” Harry says, positioning himself in front of the three.

            “Excuse me?” McGonagall asks, staring him down.

            “Stop. I’m pardoning him. His only crime in this war was pledging loyalty to the Dark Lord after he thought I was dead,” Harry tells them.

            “And conspiring to kill Albus Dumbledore…” Hagrid mutters.

            “But he didn’t actually cause _permanent damage_ to anyone _,_ did he? It was an incompetent conspiracy. And it was _Snape_ who killed Dumbledore in the end, because Malfoy couldn’t make himself do it,” Harry hisses. After collecting Snape’s memories in the vial he was given, he’d had another fit of his infamous temper and crushed the vial under his foot. Ah well. That git didn’t deserve to tell his story while dying anyway. Having been in love with his mother meant nothing compared to everything else he’d done.

            “Fine,” McGonagall says, releasing Draco and saying sarcastically. “As the Boy Who Lived says, so shall it be.”

            Draco steps away from them, glaring at McGonagall and Hagrid. “Thanks, Harry,” he says, before stepping away.

            “Wait,” Harry says, putting a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

            “Is my punishment a lecture instead of a stint in Azkaban?” Draco asks, a corner of his mouth twitching up.

            “No,” Harry says. “Listen, Draco, the only reason I survived past the first time I was “killed” was your mother asking me if you were safe and sparing me.”

            Harry sees McGonagall’s face turn down as she realizes that Harry is going to pardon Narcissa Black Malfoy as well. Harry turns back to Draco.

            “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” Draco says, face confused.

            “What I’m saying is I want us to start over. We have no reason to be enemies, especially now that Voldemort is dead.” Harry takes Draco’s hand and pushes up his sleeve, revealing the scar on the inside of his wrist that Draco always hides. “In fact, we have a reason to be friends.”

            Draco almost lets out a hiss as Harry reveals the marks made by a Black Quill — Lucius Malfoy’s this time, instead of Dolores Umbridge’s. _Father knows best,_ with scars that have faded more surrounding it — the larger and less precise handwriting of a younger Draco Malfoy. Harry never asked how young Draco was when Lucius started that punishment. He didn’t want to know.

            “I suppose we do,” Draco says, forcing his eyes away from the scar.

            “Here,” Harry points his wand at the phrase and mutters a few Latin words, an incantation Hermione found that creates new layers of skin to help cover up poorly-chosen tattoos and scars. “Better?”

            Draco looks down at the scar again. An onlooker could tell there’s _something_ underneath the layers of skin now, but couldn’t make out the words. “Yeah.”

            Determination in his eyes, he leans forward to give Harry a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Harry.”


End file.
